


Under Cover

by insanityintensifies



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Discussion of kink, Forced Prostitution, Human Trafficking, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Strategy & Tactics, and Dick enjoying the view of Slade in normal clothes, it's okay Slade is looking at his bottom in his dress pants the same way, lots of talking in the first chapters, mentions of:, not within the ship, the first two chapters are just plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanityintensifies/pseuds/insanityintensifies
Summary: Nightwing and Deathstroke are both going after the same target. The nature of the target's job forces them to work together. An unlikely work-relationship ensues in which Slade can't believe his luck and Dick ends up enjoying himself much more than he could ever have expected.





	1. Observation

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday present. The person I am gifting this to doesn't have an AO3 account, but you know who you are.

Slade didn’t move when he heard footsteps on the roof behind him, nor when someone cleared their throat behind him and even stayed still as he was poked in the shoulder by the blunt end of a weapon.

“Slade…” a voice he knew finally addressed him, a mixture of frustration and worry mixed in it. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, kid.” The mercenary replied, his eyes still fixed on his target.

“I doubt that.” Came the immediate reply, followed immediately by a quiet grunt as the person dropped themselves to the ground next to him.

Only then the assassin let his eyes stray away from his target and to his left, where Nightwing was lying in the same position as him.

“This time it’s true.” The older man mused his focus back on his target. “I’m just assessing the situation. Or do you see a weapon here somewhere?”

“You have weapons everywhere,” Dick replied grudgingly.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Grayson,” Slade growled.

 

Instead of replying to him Nightwing turned his focus to the building opposite them as well. Two guards were standing in front of its entrance. Every now and then a very expensive car stopped in front of it, two people got out, showed something to the guards and were let inside.

“Who’s your target?” Dick asked after some time, casually, but Slade knew there was tension behind that question.

“His name is Matthew Hoyer, I doubt that you know him.”

Indeed, he didn’t know him, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. “You know I can’t let you kill him,” Dick replied, his voice determined.

“You sure you’re not just ‘gonna let this one slide, kid?”

The question caught Dick off guard and he turned to look at Slade again. “Why would I do that?”

“You know what’s going on in this building?” Slade replied to his question with a question.

He really hoped Slade wasn’t implying what he thought he was implying. “Batman said something about trafficking… although not of what.” But when Slade seriously thought he wouldn’t stop him from killing someone… “Are you telling me that they are human traffickers?”

Instead of answering him properly the older man just jerked his head into the general direction of down and across the street. “Look at the people going in. You didn’t notice anything strange?”

 

Dick turned his attention to the building once again. Another black, expensive looking car had just stopped in front of it. A man got out from the back on the drivers' site, wearing what looked like a very expensive suit. He walked around the car and opened the back door on the passenger side. A woman stepped out of the car, in heels and a short coat, apparently with a dress underneath since her legs were bare. She kept her head lowered as the man reached up to her neck and did… something.

When he took his hand away there was a thin line connecting the two people and Dick inhaled sharply. “Did he just… is that a leash?” He watched them disappear into the building, without being further controlled by the guards.

“Yes.” Was the simple, but horrifying reply from the man next to him.

“We _have_ to get in there.”

“We?” Slade inquired, finally turning to face him. Even though he couldn’t see his face Dick knew he had raised his eyebrow. “Just five minutes ago you were trying to stop me from doing just that.”

“I don’t want to go in there to kill them.” Dick pointed out. “But they have to be stopped. What they’re doing is… It’s…”

“Worse than what I do?” The older man helpfully supplied.

Dick didn’t reply to that. Instead, he looked back at the building, trying to map what he could already make out with his eyes. He would get the floor plan from Bruce, he had to plan this, he had to…

“Kid, there’s no way you’ll ever get in there.”

“You think so?” Dick shot back, whipping around to stare furiously at the older man.

“I _know_ so.” Slade replied calmly and completely unfazed by the younger man’s anger. “And even if you did, you’d never get to the really important people. If you want to stop them you have to take out the core. They’ll always find lowlifes who will do the dirty work for them. For the right amount of money, or the promise to have some fun.”

The way he pronounced the last word made a shiver of disgust run down Nightwing’s spine. “Then how were you going to get in?”

“I was just figuring that out when you interrupted me.”

 

Both of them fell into silence again, considering each other and the situation. Until Dick spoke up. “I could just… walk in.”

When Slade didn’t reply, he explained his idea further. “As Dick Grayson I mean. You know, rich kid, searching for… fun.” It disgusted him to say it out loud, to call this disgusting thing ‘fun’.

“Won’t work.” Slade shut his idea down. “They won’t believe you. You’re not the type for that and could never keep that act up long enough. Plus… you’d be worth way more when they break and sell you. To someone willing to pay extra for a former rich kid.”

“Well, I have to do _something_!” Dick spat back. “And the quicker I do it, the better. Before even more damage is done.”

“Kid…” This time Slade actually sat up. “Don’t rush it. If you go in there, you need a solid plan. They have more than 50 guards in there, armed to the teeth. They might not be able to keep up with your moves, but an AR-15 doesn’t have to.”

“Why do you care?”

 

“However far you manage to get, they’ll double their efforts afterwards and it’ll be harder to get to my target.” Slade shrugged, then stood up and brushed the dirt off his armour. “Come with me.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Dick replied with a dry laugh.

“Listen, kid. You can get the floorplans of that building. I can tell you where they have how many men. Win-win for both of us.”

Dick looked him over, hesitating for a few moments, then “Fine.” He pushed himself to his feet and looked up to Slade. “Do you have a safe house someone near?”

“No, but the Milton Hotel will do. Meet me there in three hours. Suite 10-3.”

Before dick could reply, or react, Slade hat leapt over the edge of the room and disappeared into the darkness.


	2. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Slade meet up at a hotel to discuss how to proceed. An idea is born.

This was a stupid idea, Dick thought as he entered the hotel lobby. In his hand a business trolley containing his armor, several weapons and changing clothes. Without his mask people recognized him, some he had met at parties of Bruce even greeted him. The chairman of a lobbying organization tried to start a conversation with him.

Finally, he had made it into an elevator, luckily by himself. He pressed the button for the top floor. The lift didn’t stop on its way and he was immensely grateful for that. The hallway he stepped into once the lift had stopped only had four doors. Three into suites and one for the staircase.

He knocked on the one with the number Slade had told him, taking a deep breath and standing up a little straighter.

The door was opened almost immediately, with Slade standing in the doorway. “Mister Grayson.” He greeted him.

“Mister Wilson.” Dick replied, suppressing a smirk. This was ridiculous.

“How nice of you to come here.” Slade stepped back from the door to let Dick in, then closed and locked it behind him.

The click of the lock sounded like it was sealing his doom, but Dick shook his head lightly to get rid of that thought. He was over-reacting.

 

When he turned around to look at Slade he saw the older man still standing right next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest. In a high contrast to the suit Dick was wearing, Slade was just dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a dark blue short-sleeved shirt. Instead of the ponytail, he had his hair in the last time Dick had seen him up-close without his mask on he now had a haircut that was almost militarily short. The grey was the same as in his eye and the eyepatch hadn’t changed either.

“Is there a problem?” Dick asked quizzically. It wasn’t that Slade looking at him made him uncomfortable, he just… no, it did make him uncomfortable.

“There isn’t, Grayson. You just look terribly formal.” There was a glint in Slade’s eye that made Dick question how he meant that, but he barely had time to ponder over that, as Slade walked over to him and sat down on the leather couch across from a small coffee table.

Dick sat down on the couch opposite him and pulled his trolley close.

“Do you have the floor plans?” Slade asked, leaning forward a little.

“Do you have the information you claimed you have?” Dick asked back, opening the bottom two buttons on his jacket.

Slade smirked, standing up. “You get the floorplans out, I’ll get a pen.”

 

Getting the tablet with the plans set up and connected to a holographic projector was a matter of seconds and thus when Slade came back and sat back down Dick had taken off his jacket and was folding his sleeves up. It was rather warm in the suite.

The older man sat up and eyed the technological gadgets on the table a little wearily.

“What is it, old man?” Dick asked teasingly. “Unable to keep up with tech evolution?”

“Unwilling, as long as it’s not good for defense or attack.” Slade replied darkly. “You won’t find a weapon I don’t know, but those…” He gestured over the setup on the table “Are just toys. Nothing you can’t do just as well with a pen and paper.”

Dick smiled lightly. “Give me that pen of yours.”

Once he had it he reached into the front pocket of his trolley and took out a small ring. After pulling it over the pen he pressed a small button and it stretched out, covering the tip of the pen. “Here.”

Once Slade had taken it back Dick switched the projector on. “Now it can interact with the digital floor plan.” A few taps on the tablet and a projection of the house they had observed flickered into view.

Slade just looked at him, so Dick continued: “Simply hold the pen where guards are and tap it. You can also tap it, draw something on the projection, then tap again and the computer will calculate it into a 3D version of it. If you want to see just a single floor, or a different one, or a room up close, just tell me.”

“Alright.” Slade cracked his knuckles, then picked up the pen again. “Let’s try it your way.”

 

Afterwards, he began to explain and point out positions of guards, weapon and munition depositories and where offices, meeting- and playrooms were. Dick only had to remind him to tap once, or twice, otherwise, he didn’t seem to have a problem with the technology. But then again, it was Slade, not a “normal” man his age.

When he had stopped talking Dick looked the simulation over for a few minutes but couldn’t find a gap in their setup of security guards. The important people he would have to apprehend, the core of the organization, as Slade had called them were in the inner and most protected sections of the building and it wouldn’t be easy to reach them, even if he had help.

Finally, he looked up at Slade, who seemed just as immersed in the projection as he had been. He didn’t want to ask, but it seemed like the only option.

 

“Do they know you?”

“What?” Slade looked up to him, sitting up straight and raising his eyebrow.

“Do they know who you are. Do they know that Slade Wilson is Deathstroke?”  
Slade furrowed his brows but eventually replied. “Yes. I once took a job from one of the higher-ups in this organization. To kill a former partner of his, who had taken money out of their funds and tried to leave with it.”

Before he could reply Slade added “No, I didn’t know what they did, back then. I don’t ask many questions, that’s why most clients come to me.”

“And I thought most clients came to you because you kill people.” Dick replied in a sarcastic tone.

“Don’t _test_ me, kid.” Slade replied, an edge to his voice that sparked something inside Dick that he couldn’t pinpoint the nature of.

 

“Maybe it’s better that they know you…” He mused, instead of replying to Slade’s comment. “You worked for them. They might think you are the type. Even if you’re not.”

“You think I wouldn’t? That I wouldn’t get myself a sex slave?” The older man replied, his expression unreadable.

Dick just stared at him. He hoped he was joking, hoped that he could trust his instincts. Yes, he had seen Slade kill. And yes, he had kidnapped him in the past. But he had never… touched him or forced himself on him in any way and he couldn’t imagine him ever doing it. To anyone. Slade was… better than that.

“Would you?” His voice wasn’t as strong as he would have liked it to be. He hated how unsure he sounded.

“I wouldn’t buy one, no. But if it was consensual.” He leaned back on the couch and looked Dick over. “I’d like to own a person. To be in control of them. Use them for what and whenever I please.” During the last sentence, he had fixed his eye on Dicks and didn’t look away.

He felt like Slade was trying to see into his head, even though he knew he couldn’t. Dick squirmed uncomfortably on his couch, furrowing his brow and placing his hands in his lap. “Who would want that? I mean, who would like to be on the receiving end of that?”

Again, he could see the glint in Slade’s eye as he replied, “You’d be surprised.”

 

Not knowing how he could reply to that and not particularly willing to let the conversation go further down that road Dick returned to his original questions. “So, you would be able to, how did you call it? “Keep up the act” believingly?”

“Yes.”

That… shouldn’t be a good thing. “So, you can get in? Pretending you’re searching for some... fun.”

“I could get in, but I wouldn’t get anywhere important. _Look_.” He took the tablet off the table and switched to a different floor. “I would get to _here_. That’s where some girls are always kept. They’d tell me to pick one, to pay and then off I’d go. But _here_ …” he switched the projection again, pointing to a few smaller rooms on the fifth floor. “Is where my target sits. And there are too many guards between him and the main entrance to make this profitable for me.”

He looked back up. “My client has told me that there will be a party in..." He looked at the watch on the tablet, "Three days, not counting today. Most of the ‘core’ will be there. But the party takes place…” Again, he switched to a different floor, this time the lowest one which had a giant hall right in the center. “ _Here_. But you don’t get in without company.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”


End file.
